


Supermoms

by hayjolras



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Motherhood, Parenthood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-24 18:50:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/943410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hayjolras/pseuds/hayjolras
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little fics about Éponine and Cosette's adventures in motherhood/</p>
            </blockquote>





	Supermoms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [katyfaise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/katyfaise/gifts).



“I _hate_ bath time.”

“Éponine, I -- wait, wha -- _you’re_ not the one getting the bath, Éponine!”

“I know,” Éponine replied as she went to the linens closet and pulled out a pair of towels, “that doesn’t mean that I exactly love it.”

Cosette rolled her eyes and she twisted her hair into a ponytail. “Help me, Éponine. Marie!” she called, turning her back to her wife, “Marie! Are you ready for your bath?”

There was a pause, and both women strained their ears for the answer.

Somewhere deep in the house, a tiny voice answered, “No.”

“See?” Éponine said as Cosette sighed and rubbed her eyes. “Even Marie doesn’t like her baths. She’s been like this for ages now.”

Éponine was right. For as long as either of them could remember, Marie hated taking a bath, or being given one. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the water -- not at all, considering they’d built a pool in the backyard because it was their daughter’s dream to be a mermaid -- but something about the bath made Marie confide herself into various places in the house -- closets, under beds, in empty cupboards. It was an unwilling game of hide-and-seek on Éponine and Cosette’s part, but, on the other hand, Marie was 4 years old, and there were only so many more spaces she could fit into, let alone finding anywhere new to disappear into.

Cosette put her hands on her hips and walked quietly to Marie’s room, where she thought the voice had come from, and, after a moment’s hesitation, Éponine followed.

“I know I heard her here,” Cosette said as they both examined the seemingly empty room. It was blue, Marie’s favorite color, with a castle painted on one wall, courtesy of Grantaire. The room was neat -- Cosette always made sure that Marie put her toys away in her toy chest -- but some stuffed animals sat on her bed. They kept Marie safe from the monsters as she slept. “Marie?”

No one responded.

“I don’t know, Cosette,” Éponine said, walking over to the closet. “I thought I heard her in the -- playroom!” she shouted as she swung open the door. To her disappointment, there was not a small, giggling child behind it.

Éponine looked over to Cosette, who was scratching her head. “I think we lost our child.”

“The house is only so big, silly,” Cosette said, peering under Marie’s light blue canopy bed. “It’s not as if she wandered out of the house and ran away. That’s too many stuffed animals for her to carry with her, besides.”

A small giggle came from somewhere in the room.

“Told you she was in here.”

“Okay, you were right,” Éponine gave in. “Marie!” she said sweetly, “come here, Marie. The sooner you come out, the sooner your bath will be over.”

“Mommy’s right, honey. It’s only be a few minutes, and then we’ll put your pajamas on and brush your hair. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

There was a second pause, longer than the first, then the tiny voice said again, “No.”

But this time, Éponine was able to locate where the voice was coming from, and, God, was that girl clever. Probably as clever as Éponine herself was at that age. Which meant she could almost always count on being on the same page as her daughter.

She walked to the toy chest and crouched down, lifting the lid slightly. The light from the bedroom fell upon a tiny girl, curled up amongst various stuffed animals, her dark hair in now lop-sided pigtails, her bright blue eyes looking both guilty and excited.

“Found you,” Éponine said quietly, grinning down at her daughter.

“The -- _Marie_! The _toy chest_?” Cosette asked in horror, watching as Marie popped up, wrapped her arms around Éponine’s neck, and allowed Éponine to carry her to the bathroom. “How on earth did she fit in there?” she continued, a hundred different scenarios running through her mind -- the lid of the chest getting stuck, Marie running out of air, or panicking, hurting herself trying to get out...

“She’s flexible, Cosette,” Éponine reasoned as she helped Marie out of her clothes. “Much like her mother,” she added under her breath, smirking in Cosette’s direction.

“Épo _nine_!”

“Bath, Cosette. Remember? Focus on what’s important here.”

Cosette sighed and sank to the floor, starting up the water in the tub. “I know you don’t like this, Marie, but think of it this way. The bath is just like a tiny pool.”

“Yup,” Éponine replied, picking Marie up again, only to place her into the tub. “Don’t pout at me, you,” she said to Marie, poking her in the stomach.

Marie giggled and kicked her legs, splashing both of her parents. “It’s too small, though.”

“I know, honey,” Cosette said. “But --”

“Too small to be a mermaid! And mermaids,” Marie added crossly, her arms over her chest, “don’t have to take baths.”

Éponine, thinking on her toes, quipped. “Sure they do! They just -- uh -- they sit in a bath, just like this, see? Only, where there would be water for your bath, there’s air for theirs. It’s the same as yours, only opposite.”

Marie scrunched her face, considering Éponine’s reply. She turned to Cosette for confirmation. “Is Mommy right?”

“What,” Éponine said, pretending to be offended. “Do you not trust me?”

Marie giggled and kicked her legs again, either in an attempt to splash her mothers again, or to mimic a mermaid’s action. Perhaps it was both. “No.”

Éponine frowned and leaned into the bathtub to splash Marie. “You better be careful -- the sea monster eats mermaids who are mean to their mommies.”

“Éponine!”

“She’s not scared, are you, Marie?”

“Nope. Mommy told me not to be afraid of anything.”

Éponine beamed proudly, while Cosette shook her head. “I’m going to get extra towels,” she said. She watched, exhausted, as her daughter and wife begin to engage in a splashing war that would surely leave everyone involved beyond soaking wet. She wanted to be angry, but, Éponine and Marie’s laughter followed her as she went back to the linen closet, and she couldn’t help but smile.

After all, this wasn’t the first time she’d found her family’s joy to be infectious.


End file.
